


Apicius

by squiddz



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiddz/pseuds/squiddz
Summary: “We should go on a date,” Aziraphale said, apropos of nothing.Crowley froze midway through handing him a tumbler of scotch, drink dangling from his long fingers. Aziraphale plucked it from him and watched as he carefully sank back into his previous position on the sofa.“What?”---In which Crowley and Aziraphale go on their first date after the failed Apocalypse and have a picnic in the park.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 75
Kudos: 697
Collections: Good Omens Holiday Swap 2019





	Apicius

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheGhostInTheMachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGhostInTheMachine/gifts).



> My pinch hit for TheGhostInTheMachine (aka [ineffable-badwolf](https://ineffable-badwolf.tumblr.com) on Tumblr) for the 2019 Good Omens Holiday Swap! The prompt was for something cute where Crowley and Aziraphale went on their first date. I hope you enjoy this, and happy belated holidays!
> 
> Many thanks to [Madeofmydreams](https://madeofmydreams.tumblr.com) for the beta!

Aziraphale had really been rather proud of how well he’d pulled everything together. After a few fact-finding missions that involved some very pleasant walks through St James’s Park (and one slightly less pleasant incident involving the local goose population), he located a quiet little corner out of the way of prying eyes. He'd gone to great lengths to pick out a truly outstanding Sauvignon blanc and packed it up along with the rest of the picnic in a very handsome wicker basket (which had been told, in no uncertain terms, to ensure its contents remain cold). The pair of them sat together on a tartan blanket, painstakingly rolled out into a neat square on the grass, with Crowley wearing the sort of smile that Aziraphale had grown accustomed to seeing on his face over the last few weeks. All things considered, it had been shaping up to be a perfect day.

And then it started to rain.

  
  


_“We should go on a date,” Aziraphale said, apropos of nothing._

_Crowley froze midway through handing him a tumbler of scotch, drink dangling from his long fingers. Aziraphale plucked it from him and watched as he carefully sank back into his previous position on the sofa._

_“What?”_

_As he settled in against the squashed sofa cushions, his knee came to rest ever so slightly against Aziraphale’s thigh. There’d been a lot of this in the three weeks since they’d stopped Armageddon, all this gentle touching and casual intimacy that Aziraphale had craved for Lord knows how long. He needed more of it._

_“Oh, you know,” Aziraphale said, rubbing a thumb along the rim of his glass. “It’s what humans do when they… like each other.”_

_Crowley scrubbed his face with his hand and sighed. “Yes, I know what a date is, angel.” There was an agonising pause. A pair of unblinking yellow eyes pinned Aziraphale to the spot. Just as he was beginning to rather regret bringing it up, Crowley at last said, “Sure, that sounds, erm… yeah, that sounds good.”_

  
  


“Well, this is a disaster,” Aziraphale said as they watched the rain coming down in sheets. There’d been a bit of a scene as they gathered up the picnic and scrambled for cover under a nearby oak tree, though Crowley had seemed more amused by it than anything else. Nothing much had been ruined (the rain at least knew better than to get them wet), but it had certainly put an abrupt stop to the picnic. They were currently sitting side-by-side with the blanket draped over their shoulders - not the worst thing in the world, Aziraphale decided.

“Oh, I dunno,” Crowley said, leaning playfully into Aziraphale’s side. “Reminds me of the day we met, actually.”

Aziraphale smiled as he pictured it, Crowley’s copper hair hanging in beautiful curls around his face as he sauntered up beside him on the Wall. “Oh yes, you’re right.”

Crowley hummed happily at his side. “You were a vision of angelic grace, as I recall. Accented perfectly by a lovely veneer of self-righteousness.”

“Oh, and you _weren’t_ spoiling for an argument?” Aziraphale said. “I remember that look you had on your face, Crowley. I brace myself every time I see it.”

“Oh yeah? And what look is that, exactly?” Crowley rested his chin on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and for one moment Aziraphale lost his train of thought altogether.

“That one you get just before you’re about to be exceptionally annoying. Which, I suppose, is most of the time.”

“Goodness, don’t you know how to put on the charm.” He sat up straight, and Aziraphale felt his shoulder already aching at the loss. “This is a date, you know. You’re supposed to be winning me over.”

“Yes well, the weather has rather put an end to all that, hasn’t it?” Aziraphale huffed indignantly in the vain hope that the weather might have the decency to feel bad about spoiling his plans.

He expected some sharp-tongued response, possibly along the lines of how it was all ineffable (as though _that_ particular joke hadn’t been run into the ground at this stage). Instead Crowley reached out and took hold of Aziraphale’s hand. His palm was warm against his rain-cooled skin and Aziraphale twisted his wrist so they could lace their fingers in between one another. They slotted together perfectly, as though they were supposed to have been doing this the whole time.

“We can still have the picnic right here, angel.”

  
  


_“Where shall we go?”_

_Crowley shrugged one shoulder as he took another sip of his scotch. “You’re the one who asked me on a date, angel. I think you’re supposed to pick what happens.”_

_Aziraphale scrunched up his brow and stared into his drink. He hadn’t really thought much about the details beyond wanting to spend some time with Crowley._

_“But I’d like to do something_ you _want to do. You’ve spent so long taking me out places, let me take you somewhere.”_

_Crowley gave him a dismissive wave. “I enjoyed going to those places, too. Just pick your favourite one and we’ll go there.”_

_Aziraphale sighed. “Crowley, please.” And then, because it felt like something they both needed to hear, “You’re allowed to want things.”_

_For a moment, Crowley sat in thoughtful silence. “I’m just happy being wherever you are.” Something very warm started radiating through Aziraphale’s chest. “Maybe… that picnic you promised?”_

_“That sounds like a lovely idea. We could go to the park. Oh, we could have oysters!”_

_Crowley quirked an eyebrow at him. “Not exactly traditional picnic fare, is it?”_

_“Well, no. But it was our first meal together! Ah, do you think that counted as our first date?”_

_“You spent most of the time threatening to send me back to Hell. If that was our first date, I feel pretty cheated.”_

_“Alright, fine.” Aziraphale put his glass on a side table. “_ This _will be our first date.”_

_“Excellent,” Crowley said with a grin. “You’d better find some damn good oysters, I’ve been waiting for this picnic for 50 years, you know.”_

  
  


Aziraphale decided that Crowley was right, and resolved not to let a little bit of rain ruin their plans. He'd pulled a silver platter from the wicker basket, piled with crushed ice and boasting two dozen locally-sourced oysters on the half shell arranged rather artfully (or so Aziraphale thought) in concentric circles. Once the wine and conversation started to flow, he had to admit that the afternoon had been more salvageable than he'd first feared.

“I mean, really,” Crowley said, thrusting an oyster shell in Aziraphale’s direction, its contents jiggling slightly, “How were you expecting me to have taken one look at _this_ and come to the conclusion that they might taste nice?”

Aziraphale smiled broadly, reaching for one himself. “One does have to wonder what was going through the mind of the first human to open one up and give it a try.”

“Yes, ‘s'what I’m saying!” Crowley tipped the oyster into his mouth. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and Aziraphale found himself quite mesmerised. He quickly looked away and focused on the rain twirling about in the wind instead.

”Those Romans, eh? Did you ever go to any of those aristocratic banquets?” Crowley asked, discarding the empty shell on the ground. “I’m sure you must have. I think I ate a flamingo tongue when I was trying to win the ear of some governor.”

“Oh yes, had that.” Aziraphale replied. “Peacock tongue too. And parrot I’m sure… goodness, looking back on it, they seemed rather obsessed with avian tongues.”

Crowley eyed up another oyster as Aziraphale polished his off. “That’s the rich for you, eating all the rubbish bits of animals that no one else would touch. Suppose that’s what happens when you have more money than sense.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale picked up his wine glass and brought it to his lips. The wind hissed through the canopy above them. “Hmm, what about those little dormice? I had those a few times, they really were quite awful.”

“What?” Crowley said, mildly outraged. “No, the mice were good!”

“Well, of course _you’d_ think that. You’re a snake.” Aziraphale pressed himself into Crowley’s side a little bit. “All those tiny bones! How on Earth is one expected to enjoy their meal when they’ve got a mouse-sized femur lodged in the back of their throat?”

Crowley dipped his head enough to flash his golden eyes over the top of his sunglasses. “That’s why you’ve got to swallow them whole, angel.”

Aziraphale tried his best to look disgusted, which was made difficult by the laughter that spilled out of him. “I must say I’m sorry to have missed out on seeing some Roman senator’s face when you unhinged your jaw to swallow an entire dormouse.”

“ _How_ many times have I told you,” Crowley said rolling his head back in exasperation. “Snakes don’t unhinge their jaws, the bottom bit just… comes apart.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “It’s an expression, dear.” Before Crowley could launch into the tirade that he’d heard a hundred times before, Aziraphale quickly picked up the previous conversational thread. “What was that fermented fish sauce they put on everything?”

“Garum.” 

“Garum” he repeated, wrinkling his nose. “Spilled some on my toga once and I don’t think it ever stopped smelling of rotting intestines.”

“And here I thought you were just too prim to use the public baths.” 

“I’ll have you know I was no stranger to the baths, Crowley.”

Crowley barked with laughter. “Now _there’s_ something I’m sorry to have missed.” A very charming shade of pink appeared on his cheeks almost immediately. “ _Ngk_ , because now, you’re so covered up. Not - not that I’m trying to tell you to get uncovered. I mean, I’d _like_ to see you uncovered - fuck, wait—"

Aziraphale tried very hard to bite back his laughter, and gave Crowley’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright, my dear. I’ll admit to having similar feelings about seeing you, as you put it, uncovered.”

Crowley’s eyebrows started reaching for his hairline as his blush deepened. “Right,” he said tightly. “That’s, erm, good to know.”

Aziraphale watched with fond amusement as Crowley downed the rest of his wine, while the rain continued to whip against the shelter of their oak tree.

  
  


_A somewhat worrisome thought suddenly occurred to Aziraphale. “What should I wear?” he blurted out. Crowley spluttered into his glass and grit his teeth as he slammed the drink down on the coffee table._

_“Fucking Hell that burns.”_

_Aziraphale tutted and gave him his best uppity sigh. “Really, I don’t think my question warranted that kind of response. I just want to look… presentable for our date.”_

_“I’m sorry, it’s just… do you even own anything other than what you’re wearing?”_

_“Of course I have other clothes,” he replied tartly. Crowley looked somewhat skeptical._

_“Anything made within the last century?”_

_Aziraphale made an annoyed sound at the back of his throat in response, largely because he most certainly did not own an item of clothing made this side of World War 2. But Crowley didn’t need the satisfaction of knowing that._

_“Since when do you care what anyone thinks about how you look, anyway?” Crowley asked, still wincing at the burn of the scotch he inhaled._

_“I don’t,” Aziraphale said defensively. Then after a pause, “Well, I suppose I care what_ you _think.”_

_Crowley’s head snapped up, his eyes wide and startled. “You… you do?”_

_A prickle of embarrassment started creeping down the back of Aziraphale’s head. “...yes.”_

_Crowley’s mouth pulled into a thin line as he started nodding idly. “Well, you’ve, ah… got nothing to worry about there.”_

_Aziraphale’s stomach performed a very intricate backflip._

_“You wear what you want, angel.”_

  
  


"Now _wine_ was quite something back then, wasn't it?" Crowley said holding up his glass.

Aziraphale drained the last drops from the bottle into his own glass and put it away in the wicker basket alongside the empty oyster platter.

“Indeed, I don’t think I’ve ever quite had a hangover like the ones we got from ancient wine.”

“Do you remember that… wine festival the Romans used to have? That night we shared that massive barrel to ourselves?”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes as he started flipping through memories, all becoming increasingly blurred together the further beyond the birth of Christ they went. “Hm, I think you’re talking about the Greeks, my dear. Wasn’t that in Athens?”

Crowley slapped himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand. “ _Athens!_ Yes, that was it.” He started to double over with laughter. “Oh, that stuff was terrible. It’s a bloody wonder neither of us went blind that night.”

“Almost miraculous, one might say.”

Crowley’s laughter died back a little and his smile became something far more fragile. “I, erm, remember that only because you let me stay at your place that evening.”

Aziraphale blinked in surprise at the shift in tone, watching Crowley carefully but not able to glean much through his dark glasses. “Yes…” Aziraphale said slowly. “I think I remember that.”

“Woke up the next day with a pounding headache, of course, but, erm…” Crowley stopped to bite at the inside of his cheek before finding the nerve to continue. “Well, you were still asleep. Hadn’t ever seen you sleeping before. And you just…”

Aziraphale nudged a little closer, silent support that it was safe to give voice to this thought.

“You just looked very lovely,” Crowley finally finished. “And for a very long time it was something I’d think about when I was lonely." He looked down into his lap. "Which was often.”

Aziraphale knew that feeling only too well, the aching hollowness that had bounced around his chest in the stretches of time between their meetings.

A sigh tumbled out of Crowley, one that sounded like it had been trapped deep inside him for a very long while. “Memories were all we had for such a long time.”

The words hung above them as they watched the wind lashing the rain across the open fields of St James’s Park.

“I know,” Aziraphale said. “But now we can make more together.”

Crowley huffed out a tiny laugh and rested his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Well, isn’t that a nice thought?”

  
  


_“I wish I'd asked you sooner,” Aziraphale said. The pair of them had seen away the entire bottle of scotch and were laid out on the sofa, Crowley resting his feet in Aziraphale’s lap. His eyes were shut, but his brow furrowed at the words._

_“Hmm?” he said sleepily._

_“I’ve wanted to go on something like a date with you for ages,” Aziraphale replied. “I’m surprised you never asked me, honestly.”_

_Crowley’s eyes were open now, carefully considering Aziraphale from across the sofa. “Well, certainly not directly. I always thought you’d just say no.”_

_“Yes, I suppose I would have,” he said, barely louder than a whisper. “But I wanted to be brave enough to say yes.”_

_Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Crowley sat up a little more. “You are brave. You defied the entire host of Heaven for me, for Go—Someone’s sake.”_

_Something terribly familiar bubbled up in Aziraphale's chest, all the thousands of years of guilt that had fermented in the bottom of his heart. “I’m sorry I pushed you away for so long.”_

_“Oi, it’s alright. You were just keeping us both safe. If we’d have done it my way, I don’t think we’d have lived to see the end of the Roman empire.”_

_“Even so,” Aziraphale replied. “I said some dreadful things to you over the years.”_

_“I said some things I regret, too.”_

_“Well then… Maybe this can be our way of wiping the slate clean. Our fresh start, as it were.”_

_The corners of Crowley’s mouth curled upward into a tender smile. “Yeah. A fresh start.”_

  
  


The rain continued coming down in buckets, creating muddy puddles on the waterlogged grass. The two of them were huddled close together under the blanket, their hands clasped together between them. Crowley’s head hadn’t moved from Aziraphale’s shoulder, and he’d brought his own head down to rest on top of it. For some time, all Aziraphale could hear was the sound of the rain pelting the leaves above them and the distant sound of London traffic.

It was Crowley who broke the silence.

“Why _did_ you take me under your wing that day? On the Wall, I mean.” 

Aziraphale turned the question over in his mind a few times. It had been purely reflexive, barely given a second thought when the Heavens had opened for the first time.

“You’d have got wet.”

“Yes, very good,” he huffed. “I meant... Why did you want to help me?”

“I just… did. Seemed like it would have been terribly unkind to just stand there and do nothing.”

“Even if that meant being kind to a demon?”

Aziraphale smiled a little. Still always asking questions.

“You were hardly the terrifying abomination we’d been told you all were. And I suppose I didn’t feel like you’d given me any particular reason to be fearful of you. You were just another being thrust on to the Earth’s surface and expected to… get on with it.”

Crowley laughed softly. “You really were too good for Heaven, you know that angel?”

“My dear, so were you.”

Crowley slowly lifted his head away from his shoulder, and for a moment Aziraphale thought maybe he'd said the wrong thing. With a deep breath, Crowley pulled his sunglasses off and set them to the side. Aziraphale wondered when he’d last seen Crowley without his glasses in public, outside of Tadfield airbase. Likely not for a couple thousand years at least. Faced with them now, Aziraphale could understand why he liked to keep them covered, aside from the obvious. They were so deeply expressive, unable to hide the torrent of emotion that ran just behind them. There was so much terrified vulnerability in them right now that Aziraphale felt his heart begin to come apart at the seams.

And then Crowley shifted himself, the blanket slipping from their shoulders as he brought a hand up to cup the back of Aziraphale’s head. They moved together, pressing their mouths into a gentle kiss like they’d done it a thousand times before. Aziraphale parted his lips, gasped a little when Crowley’s soft tongue met his own, and then they were pulling apart, back to looking into each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” Crowley said. “And… I know it’s not something you’re really supposed to say on a first date. Erm, sorry, maybe that was too fast. I just—"

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a look of pure adoration. “I think the context of our first date is a little different than most. I love you, too.” Crowley’s face bloomed into the most beautiful smile Aziraphale was sure he’d ever seen. “And I hope you know that I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

He pressed their foreheads together. “Yeah, I know.”

After another soft chaste kiss, the two of them returned to watching the downpour from their spot under the tree. And, had there been any passers-by chancing a walk through the park in the rain, they might have seen a flicker of light as, on a dimension not quite visible from this one, a pair of white wings extended and encircled them both.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://heavens-bookshop.tumblr.com)!


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